


Silverbow

by luckandillusions



Category: Tales from the Shadowhunter Academy - Cassandra Clare, The Dark Artifices Series - Cassandra Clare, The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Canon Related, Family, Family Drama, Ficlet Collection, Friendship, Gen, Heroine's Journey, Lwa | Loa | L'wha, New Orleans, Shadowhunter Academy, Voodoo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-25
Updated: 2018-11-04
Packaged: 2019-04-08 02:59:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14095644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luckandillusions/pseuds/luckandillusions
Summary: New Orleans is the epicenter of the Downworld. Niya Reynaud was born with the Sight, but as a mundane she's always been doomed to the fringes. That all changes when she uncovers a secret about her past.





	1. Through Deep Waters

_"The souls of the dead reside in a portion of the underworld known as Guinee._  
_This is not a place of torture or punishment, but rather a murky plane,_  
_which sprits must pass through before reaching the "deep waters"_  
_where they will be reunited with their loved ones."  
_ –A Brief History of New Orleans Voodoo _,_ by Madame Bones

**New Orleans, 2006**

The smell of incense wafted out of Madame Bones' House of Voodoo. It engulfed Niya like a warm hug. Her moment of calm only lasted for a moment. A group of noisy tourists rushed out the door, almost knocking her over. Niya rolled her eyes and headed into the shop.

It was packed, as per usual. Tourists weaved in and out of the crowded rooms. Some looked awed and entranced while others cast skeptical glances at the altars. A thin older woman pulled her phone out in an attempt to take a sneaky photograph of Maman Brigitte's shrine. Niya was quick to swipe the phone out of her hand. "There is a no photography sign, literally right there." Niya handed the woman's phone back with a pointed look. The woman scowled but took her phone and headed for the exit.

Niya approached the shrine. She gingerly placed a fresh chili pepper from the farmers market in front of a tiny bottle of spiced rum. She winked, as if she and Maman Brigitte were in on a joke.

"Niya, is that you?" Talia Reynaud called from the back. "Come here, please!" Even with the crowds and the music, her mother's voice still managed to snake it's way to her. Niya headed toward the curtain, pushing it aside with one hand to reveal the hidden room.

The front of the shop was open to mundanes. They came in droves to buy trinkets and catch a glimpse of the mysterious Madame Bones. The gris-gris bags, prayer candles, and good luck charms were not some cheesy trick. They were real, but for the most part they were harmless. It was what lay behind the curtain that drew the shadow world of New Orleans inside.

The ifrit watching the door nodded at Niya as she passed. The gills on his cheeks ruffled with each breath. She smiled at him as she pushed back the curtain. The back room was busy today as well, though decidedly less chaotic than the room Niya had just left.

She waved at a familiar werewolf, and smiled at a vampire she'd hooked up with at a party a few weeks before. "There you are, Niya. Come here," Talia called again. One of her manicured nails taped the small TV screen behind the counter. "I saw you on the camera. I hope you brought some of those peppers for me as well. Auntie is making her famous jambalaya tonight."

"I did, mama," Niya said, hefting her shopping bag onto the counter. Her mother poked around in the bag for a moment. Satisfied with the haul, Talia waved her daughter away.

"Sit it on the table, I'll take it upstairs." Niya did as she was told, ducking behind a second set of curtains. These only hid the storage room and the stairs leading to the Reynaud's apartment. "While you're back there, can you grab the silver bullets?"

Talia's accent was a thick mix of different places. To Niya it had always seemed like a good gumbo. It was a heavy dose of Creole, smoothed out by a little English. Plus, a sprinkling of Spanish thanks to her grandfather's Cuban roots. Niya's own accent had mostly faded, even living in New Orleans with Talia and Auntie Bones. Sometimes she'd put on a thicker accent and imagine she'd grown up in the bayou like her mother and her mother's mother.

Niya located the jar, it was on a high shelf and she was forced to drag a chair over to climb up. The silver bullets clinked against the glass. Niya returned them to the other room, sliding them across the counter to her mother. Talia edged away with a sour look. The glass was thick enough to protect any werewolf against harm, but Talia still didn't like to handle them. "I'll take the groceries up to Auntie, could you finish up with these two?"

That was when Niya noticed the two customers at the counter. The corners of her mouth curled up like she had a bad taste in her mouth. It wasn't the silver bullets that had Talia darting out of the room so fast. It was the company. Niya sighed, "Shadowhunters."

The shorter of the two flashed a charming smile. He had the angelic look down pat, blonde curls, golden eyes, and a dazzling smile. Niya was disgusted. "How many bullets do you want?" She asked, avoiding looking either of the boys in the eyes.

"All of them," he told her. She eyed the jar, full to the brim with little silver cylinders.

Niya frowned. "Who do you plan on taking down with these?"

"Oh, no one, hopefully." He looked up at his friend, a much taller boy with jet-black hair and bright blue eyes. Unlike the blonde, he looked very uncomfortable. "I guess we'll have to melt them down, we don't use guns."

She narrowed her eyes, looking between them. "Melt them down? If you're going to melt them down, why don't you just buy a silver tea pot?"

The blonde turned back to her. "Oh, that's a great idea. Do you have a silver teapot?"

"No, I do not have a silver teapot." Niya enunciated her words to mark her frustration. She glanced at the taller boy again; he had a bow slung over his back. Niya had never been one for weapons, but she was drawn toward it. She ducked behind the counter and returned with a box. "But I do have these." She flicked open the box to reveal a set of beautiful hand-carved arrows, each with a silver arrowhead.

The dark haired boy stepped forward to look them over. He ran his fingers up the silver spiral that covered them from end to end. "These are nice," he said, glancing over his shoulder at the blonde.

"Seven hundred," Niya told him.

"First rule of bartering, Alec, don't let them  _know_  you like the product," the blonde said. He made a tsking sound and Niya decided she wanted him out of her shop as quickly as possible.

"Just pay her and let's go," Alec said.

The blonde shook his head but put seven hundred on the counter, in cash. Then he leaned forward, peering over the counter. Niya stepped back, and he looked her up and down. She frowned, wondering if Shadowhunters had an x-ray vision rune she didn't know about. "So, where's your mark?"

Alec's eyes widened and he yanked the blonde backward. "Please, ignore Jace. He's an asshole."

"Yeah, I'd agree with you there." Niya glanced back at Jace. The boy smiled again. She had a feeling that he was very used to girls throwing themselves at his feet when he smiled at them like that. "Not that it's any of your business, but I don't have a mark. I'm not a warlock."

"Well, you aren't a werewolf either," he mused, more to himself that to her. He motioned toward the back room. "Not like that one."

" _That one_  happens to be my mother."

Jace looked at Alec. "Doesn't she seem a little..." He wiggled his fingers toward her as if that was supposed to convey some actual meaning. Alec shot him a look.

"I'm not a downworlder," Niya snapped. She immediately regretted it. Several of the customers cast curious glances in her direction. Most people who shopped here knew who Niya was. She'd been working the back register since she could walk. Still, she hated marking herself as  _mundane_ , in front of them. "I just have the sight."

Quickly she gathered the cash and wrapped up the arrows in brown paper. "But my question is, why are two Shadowhunters buying weapons in a warlock's shop? Why aren't you at the Institute?"

"We're tracking a rogue werewolf from New York," Jace explained. "He killed three mundanes, but he fled before we could find him."

Niya shuttered, remembering the night she had found her mother bleeding in the streets of the French Quarter. Talia had been running a late night delivery to a vampire party in the Garden District. When she was walking back to the shop, she'd been attacked. To this day they still didn't know which werewolf had turned her.

"Have you asked the Pack to handle the situation?" Niya asked, raising an eyebrow. Auntie Bones had helped Talia through her first full moon. But after that she'd been accepted into the New Orleans Pack. Niya had been reluctant to trust them, but over the years they'd become a major part of her life. "Does the Institute even know you're here?"

"Depends on which Institute you're referring to," Alec muttered. Jace shot him a look.

"Oh for fucks sake. Don't you Nephilim have rules to follow?" Niya shook her head and turned for the landline. "You know what, I think I should call Mariah Rosewain and warn her a pair of rogue Shadowhunters are in her city."

Alec quickly leaned across the counter and grabbed her hand before she could put the phone up to her ear. "Hey, we have this under control. No need to get the Institute involved."

"This may come as a big shock, but I don't really trust you," Niya said, tugging the phone away. "This is my city."

Niya started to dial, but Jace darted around the counter. "What if you were to help us?"

"What makes you think I'm even vaguely interested in doing that?"

"You said it yourself, this is your city. There's a crazed werewolf on the loose. Help us stop him." He crossed his arms, looking smug as if he'd already won.

She rolled her eyes and pushed him out from around the counter. "Fine, I might know where we can look. There's a big party at Ciudad de los Muertos tonight. Everyone's going."

Alec raised an eyebrow. "You think a werewolf is going to show up at a vampire party?"

"This is New Orleans, the only time we  _don't_  blur the lines is when the Mardi Gras floats are being judged." Niya shrugged. "But Carmen Veracruz is not in the habit of inviting Shadowhunters to her parties. The only way you're getting in is with me on your arm."

Jace flashed his thousand-watt smile. "Sounds like a date."

"Sorry, pretty boy. There's a strict plus one policy, and I'm not taking you." They both turned to look at Alec who suddenly looked very pale. "Oh, and bow boy, you better dress up."

* * *

 

Niya met the Shadowhunters across the street from St. Louis Cemetery No. 3. To any mundane passerby it would seem as if the gates were locked and the cemetery was quiet. To anyone with the sight, the loud raucous sounds were unmistakably that of a downworld party.

"When you said city of the dead you really meant..." Alec trailed off, staring at the cemetery with a mixture of shock and curiosity on his face.

"Ciudad de los Muertos was Carmen's idea," Niya explained. "The cemetery was hit pretty hard during Katrina, and she wanted to find away to clean it up. The Clan owns most of the plots anyway. It's like a contest to see who can have the nicest tomb."

Jace shook his blonde hair out of his eyes. He cleaned up well, not that Niya would ever say that to his face. "Isn't this consecrated ground? How are there so many vampires here?"

"There's a rumor Madam Bones cursed all the priests back in the day. Eventually they gave up trying to consecrate the place. I don't know if it's true or not," Niya explained with a shrug. "But, Auntie says vampires are only affected if they believe. A lot of the vampires around here came from places were Christianity didn't exist yet. Some of them practiced voodoo. Carmen was Catholic, but she's also  _way_  old, she built up her tolerance over time."

Niya was fairly certain that Jace turned out about halfway through her explanation. She rolled her eyes. "Why are you even here? I told you I only get one guest."

"I am a very good party crasher," Jace said with a smirk. He waved them off. "Now you two lovebirds go ahead, don't do anything I wouldn't do!"

"Why do I get the feeling that the things he  _wouldn't_  do are the things that would keep us from getting killed?" Niya muttered. Alec smiled, like he wanted to laugh, but felt bad about it. "How do you put up with him?"

Alec shrugged. "Jace is my parabatai," he said, as if that explained everything. Maybe it did, Niya didn't really understand the parabatai bond. It wasn't like she had a lot of Shadowhunter friends she could ask. The New Orleans Downworld mixed and mingled. But, the Shadowhunters hardly left their Garden District fortress.

Niya linked her arm through Alec's as they made their way through the cemetery. The further back they got, the louder the music became. Eventually they made it to the edges of the party. The broad-shoulder vampire in the middle of the path shot Niya a smile. But it quickly evaporated when he took a second look at Alec. "Hey, Red," she called. "Have a nice night!" The vampire only mumbled a response.

Alec looked over his shoulder, and then back at Niya with a curious look. "Red's an ex. We're still friends." Niya cast a look back at him; the vampire was still watching her. "Well, we  _were_  before I showed up to a downworld party with a Nephilim as my date. I hope we find this werewolf, or my reputation in this city is trashed."

Further down the path, they ran into more downworlders. They weaved in and out of open crypts, holding drinks in every shade of color imaginable. Niya had long ago learned to pregame or pack her own flask when she was going out. The drinks in those glasses couldn't be trusted, for all she knew they might turn her into a rat.

"Niya!" A pretty girl with purple hair and red eyes stepped out of one of the tombs. Her outfit was as bright as her hair. "I didn't know you were coming."

"Love the new hair color, Lucent," Niya said, forcing a smile. The warlock had taken to coloring her hair unnatural shades so her bright red eyes seemed normal. "I didn't know I was coming either."

Lucent looked Alec over and then gave Niya a very un-subtle wink. "Is this your rebellious phase? We all go through one." Then Lucent surprised them all by pulling Niya away from Alec and kissing her. "When you get tired of dating Nephilim, you know how to find me."

Niya watched the purple-haired warlock saunter off into another tomb. When Lucent was gone, she turned back to Alec. "Another ex," Niya explained. Alec stared at her for a moment. She raised an eyebrow. "What? Not everyone is as painfully heterosexual as Jace." He stared for another half-second before shaking himself out of it.

She tugged on Alec's arm, pulling him deeper into the cemetery. "The werewolves tend to congregate back here." They glanced around, hoping someone would stick out. "If we can't find him here, there's a chance he went to Lafitte's." At Alec's questioning look, she added, "Werewolf bar. But he'd only go there first if he wasn't familiar with the city."

"Maybe he isn't," Alec suggested. "He was in New York for a while."

"Sure, but the New Orleans Downworld is tightknit. If he's here, it's probably because he knows someone in the city," she explained. "Oh, there's Michelle and Nate, let me go talk to them. If someone new is in town, they'll know." Niya started forward and then hesitated. "It's probably best if I don't bring you."

"I'll be fine over here," he assured here. Niya deposited Alec in a quiet corner, and headed toward the pack leader and her mate.

Michelle was tall with dark blonde ringlets that fell to her waist. She was younger than Talia but not by much, and they'd been close friends even before Talia was turned. Niya waved, catching her attention, and Michelle smiled.

Nate, a tall dark-haired man, scooped Niya up easily and spun her around. "How's my favorite voodoo princess?" He teased. Niya rolled her eyes, but laughed when he put her down. "Where's your mom?"

"At home eating jambalaya with Auntie," she said with a shrug.

Nate feigned shock. "You mean you skipped out on Auntie's famous jambalaya? That Shadowhunter must be something special." Niya froze like a deer in the headlights.

"Don't look so shocked," Michelle said. A tiny crease between her eyebrows was the only sign she wasn't perfectly calm. "Red made sure the word got around."

Niya groaned. "Of course he did."

"Does Talia know you're on a date with a Nephilim?" Michelle asked. "I know your mother let's you get away with a lot, but I don't think she'd approve of this."

Yes, Talia Reynaud couldn't care less if her daughter was running around with half the Downworld. To do any less would be more than a little hypocritical. Talia had been wild in her day too, and if she knew which downworlder had been Niya's father, she'd never told.

"We aren't on a date," Niya corrected. "We're actually looking for a werewolf. That's why I came to you."

Nate's easy-going demeanor shifted. His shoulders tensed and he glanced around as if doing a head count of his pack. Michelle eyed Niya suspiciously. "So you're helping Shadowhunters now?"

Niya stared at them, a little shocked that they'd gotten defensive so quickly. "Come on, you know me better than that. I'm watching out for you guys. Apparently a werewolf up in New York attacked a few mundanes. They're dead. Alec says they tracked the guy here."

Michelle and Nate exchanged a look. When Michelle turned her gaze back on Niya, her eyes had softened. "Do you remember when your mother was turned?"

Niya frowned. Of course she remembered that. She'd only been eight at the time, but it was burned into her memory forever. Niya nodded.

"She wasn't the only one attacked that year," Michelle continued. "Four mundanes died. The Rosewains tried to track down the werewolf responsible, but they never found him. We sent out as many people as we could, I guess we stopped him because the killings stopped. But we never caught him either, never even figured out who he was."

"Hold up, are you saying the guy who attacked my mom is the same guy who killed three people in New York?" Niya asked, holding up a hand. "How is that even possible?"

"Niya!" It was Alec. She didn't think, just sprinted toward the sound of his voice. Michelle and Nate were on her heels. Niya went up and over one of the smaller tombs and landed in a crouch on the other side.

Just in front of her was a body, a mundane body. Niya edged closer, though Michelle's hands on her shoulder attempted to pull her back. The woman had been scratched, deeply. She was lying in a pool of her own blood. Niya remembered how much blood Talia had lost. If it hadn't been for Auntie Bones, she wouldn't have survived long enough to make the change.

"She's gone," Michelle murmured, pulling Niya to her feet. She stumbled back, bumping into Alec who put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. That was when she noticed the tomb. There was a large 7 painted on the entrance, a thick drop made it's way down to the ground. Under the new moon, it looked black, but Niya knew with a bone-chilling certainty that it wasn't.

"Seven nights, seven moons, seven gates, seven tombs," she whispered.

Nate looked to Michelle, both of their faces set in grim lines. "He's picking up where he left off."

"Picking up what?" Alec asked.

Niya glanced up at him, realizing for the first time that she was shivering. "He's trying to open the Gates of Guinee."

A quiet thump behind Alec made them all jump. They turned to see Jace striding forward from the shadows. "I tracked him," he said. Only his hair, which was wind swept and messy, gave any indication that he'd been gone. "He headed toward the lake, but I lost him in the crowd."

"Crowd?" Niya repeated. They were all quiet for a moment, and then Niya snapped her fingers. "Shit! St. John's Eve is day after tomorrow. We've had mundanes in and out of the shop all week buying supplies. Most of them are camping around the bridge."

"This was number five," Nate said quietly.

"He only needs two more, he could open the gate in two days," Niya murmered. "Auntie always said the veil was thinnest on St. John's Eve."

Michelle had knelt down next to the body. She pulled a box of unopened cigars from one pocket, and an apple from the other. "He's customizing his offerings."

Niya remembered when they pulled Talia inside. The thick smell of cigar smoke had stuck to her clothing even in the rain. "My mom was supposed to be number five."

"Who's left?" Nate asked Michelle. "Which loa?"

"Baron Kriminel and–"

"Baron Samedi," Niya finished. "God, I hope all those chili peppers got through to Maman Brigitte."

* * *

 

It rained the next morning, making the rest of the day unbearably humid. Even inside, Niya was sweating. She'd long given up on convincing her curls to stay out of her face. She shoveled another spoonful of jambalaya into her mouth, straight from the fridge. She couldn't bear to turn on the microwave in this heat.

Talia had gone out with Michelle, Nate, and a few other werewolves from the Pack. Jace had disappeared some time after stealing half a leftover po-boy from the fridge. Carmen was gathering her Clan and preparing to join the hunt as soon as the sun went down.

Auntie Bones was downstairs in the shop. She was working the back counter and acting as a go-between for all the downworlders running in and out. Niya threw another book at the wall, barely missing Alec's head. "Whoa, that looks really old."

Her eyes widened and she ran over to grab it and smooth out the pages. "It is," Niya murmured. She ran her fingers over the Chthonic script, the black ink had faded to gray over the centuries. "There's nothing in any of these books.  _Nothing_."

"Jace is out there with half the downworlders in the city," Alec reminded her. "Maybe they'll find this guy before tonight."

Niya made a face. "Baron Kriminel was the first murderer. People burn chickens alive to appease him. If he has any say in it, he'll get his sacrifice tonight. The only way to stop him is to ask for a favor, and he  _always_  comes back at Fete Ghede to collect. I won't let anyone I know be in debt to him. So that leaves Maman Brigitte, she's the only thing that can stop Baron Samedi from opening the last gate."

"Loa, aren't they just demons?" Alec asked. Niya shot him a scalding look. "I mean, can't we summon that lady and ask her to help."

"You don't summon a loa," Niya reprimanded. "They're not  _just_  demons, actually no one's sure what they are. Some think they're greater demons from a realm we haven't discovered yet, others think they're angels. The local faeries like to claim they're part of the courts, which actually isn't as batshit as it sounds."

"Which do you think they are?"

"Not angels, for sure," Niya said. "Angels are too pretentious. They never help people. Loa are much more hands-on. Could be demons, but not like any I've ever heard of. They're probably fey, but definitely not gentry, at least not part of the courts we know of. But loa love making deals, and they love to bite you in the ass if you don't read the fine print."

"Sounds like a faerie to me," Alec said with a nod. "But how do we find them?"

Niya bit her lip. "I don't know. They certainly don't mix with the locals." She tapped her fingers on the Chthonic book for a moment. "Maybe Auntie has some ideas. I'll go convince her to help."

"I'll go with you."

She raised an eyebrow. "Okay, but just know that you're going to make this a hell of a lot more difficult."

* * *

Madame Bones sat the counter, reading a book that looked older than anything Niya had ever seen. It certainly looked older than Auntie, but Niya knew Auntie's appearance couldn't be taken at face value.

Tourists hoping to catch a glimpse of the Madame Bones often overlooked the small woman. They were expecting the living incarnation of Mama Odie from  _The Princess and the Frog_. Though to be honest, they weren't far off in looks  _or_  personality. Only Auntie looked about three decades younger than her fictional counterpart.

"Hey, Auntie, any news?" Niya asked, hopping up on the empty chair behind the counter.

Auntie Bones shook her head, rubbing Niya's back reassuringly. "We'll find him, baby girl, you just be patient."

"Actually I had an idea about that," Niya said. She glanced over her shoulder at Alec. "Well, we both did." Auntie followed Niya's gaze to the Shadowhunter, and scowled.

"It's bad enough I have to let them into my home, but now you want me to believe one of them actually had a half-decent idea?" Auntie asked, skeptically. "Shadowhunters ain't never done a thing for New Orleans, and I don't expect them to start helping now. We take care of ourselves."

Niya gave Alec a look, she'd told him this wasn't going to work. "Auntie, I know the Rosewains-"

"Don't you ever mention their names in this shop," Auntie snapped. "The current puppets in the Institute are not the first, and they will not be the last. Shadowhunters come and go. The Downworld was thriving long before they bullied their way in. We will continue to thrive long after they're gone too."

Niya took a long deep breath. "Okay, forget the Shadowhunters. This is about me. I have to do something, that werewolf almost killed my mother. I am not letting him get away again. I'm not letting anyone else die."

"Baby girl, I know you think you're a part of this world, but–"

"I want to summon Maman Brigitte," Niya informed her. She was quick to cut her off before she could drudge up the same argument they'd been having since Niya was thirteen.

Madame Bones mumbled a quiet prayer to herself, before fixing her gaze on Niya once again. "Now why on Earth would you want to try something as stupid as that?"

"You know as well as I do, Maman Brigitte is the real power behind the Ghede. She can put a stop to this before those gates open and who knows what comes out."

"Making a deal with a loa is a very dangerous thing. They know you, parts of you that you don't even know yourself, and they will use that knowledge against you."

"If she knows me, then she will know I'm doing this to save my city. I'm doing this to protect everyone who will be affected if that final gate is opened. That gate cannot open, Maman Bridgette will see that. She has to."

Auntie Bones looked at her for a moment. "Alright, I can see that you will try this with our without my help, so I best make sure you do it right."

"You know how to do it?" Niya asked, surprised. "You know how to summon a loa?"

"Honey, you don't really think you're the only human fool enough to summon a loa, do you?" She shook her head with a sigh. "My sister tried once, many years ago. Let's hope this time goes better than that one did."

* * *

It was twenty minutes till midnight when they reached the middle of Magnolia Bridge. It was packed with tourists and voodoo practitioners alike, all waiting for midnight. The events of St. John's Eve would carry for 24 hours, until midnight the next day.

"Still no word from Jace or any of the others," Alec said. With much protest, Auntie had agreed to let him come along, in case they needed protection. "The werewolf is still out there."

"At least they haven't found a sixth body yet."

"He still has twenty minutes," he reminded her.

Niya made a face. "With any luck, this won't take that long, and Maman Brigitte will stop him."

"And if she doesn't?"

"Then I have all day to convince her to stop Baron Samedi from opening the seventh gate." Niya squared her shoulders and approached Auntie Bones.

Auntie offered her a box of salt, and Niya slowly got to work, creating Maman Brigitte's veve on the ground. Behind her Madam Bones worked the crowd, with a little bit of magic. Soon they were chanting along with her, united in a common purpose that they didn't quite understand.

They lit the candles and laid out the offerings of chili peppers and rum. Auntie Bones grabbed Niya's shoulder, looking at her with dark eyes. "Last chance to turn back."

Niya shook her head. "I have to do this."

Auntie nodded once. "I know."

Niya turned back to the veve. Alec stood close by, bow in hand, prepared to shoot at any moment. "Try not to kill any good guys, alright? I know it's hard for you Shadowhunters to tell the difference."

He shook his head. "Try not to get yourself killed."

She shrugged. "No promises."

Niya sat down, and grabbed the bottle of spiced rum. She took a swig straight out of the bottle. "Alright, Maman Brigitte, come and get me."

* * *

When Niya opened her eyes, the bridge was empty, save for the veve on the ground. It shimmered in the light. She ran her fingers over the markings; the white salt had been replaced with black charcoal.

Across the bridge a woman stood, her dress whipped around her as if she was caught in the middle of a hurricane. She was too dark skinned to be Maman Brigitte. "Hello?" Niya called out to her, but the woman didn't move. Niya approached the woman. She was holding an old, broken, baby doll.

"Oh, my sweet, sweet, Ama," the woman murmured. She kissed the doll's forehead. "I did this to you. I made you like this." The doll's arms moved, and Niya jumped. She took a few steps closer and sucked in a deep breath. It wasn't a doll; it was a child. A child with a crack across its forehead that seeped black-blood.

"Ciba told me this was wrong, she told me not to play with death," the woman murmured. "But I couldn't let you go."

"Mama?" A small voice called from one end of the bridge. Niya and the woman looked toward her. The girl couldn't have been older than ten. She stood hand in hand with Auntie Bones, who looked exactly like she always had.

"You have to go, Affa," the woman called. "I love you so much. Remember that." Auntie Bones didn't say anything, she only looked disappointed. "I have to do this, Ciba. I have to return what I stole. I'll make it right for Affa, I promise."

The woman climbed up onto the rail of the bridge, and then she jumped. "No!" Niya screamed, she ran to the railing, but it was too late. It wasn't a long fall, but the woman had sunk into the bayou like she'd had rocks tied around her ankles.

"And so you see, the seventh tomb is one of my own making." Niya turned toward the voice, a haunting woman with a head of golden-red hair and emerald green eyes. She was the most beautiful person Niya had ever seen. "I should never have granted that poor woman's wish, but I did, and I regret it every day."

Niya looked toward the end of the bridge, Auntie Bones and Affa had disappeared. "Was that..."

"Your ancestor? Yes, Affa grew up in Ciba's care, but she never spoke to me or any other loa as long as she lived. It was several generations before your family found their way back into my arms."

They were quiet for a few moments. "What is it you came for, my child?"

"Auntie Bones said you would know," Niya said quietly.

Brigitte smiled softly. "And she is correct, but I would like to hear it from your own lips. Tell me why you wish for the seventh gate to remain closed. Do you know what's on the other side?"

Niya hesitated. "Well, no, of course not. Does anyone? But if that werewolf is murdering people to get to it, he can't have good intentions for whatever's on the other side."

The loa nodded. "You are not wrong, but I cannot interfere in the world of the living without good cause. There is a natural order to things, and one day the gates will open. They were always meant to."

"New Orleans is a safe haven for Downworlders. This is the one city where they can be free to be themselves. The Shadowhunters don't bother them, because they don't do any harm." Niya paused. "Well, at least not too much harm. But if the forces of the dead are unleashed on this city, it mean the end of that safety. The Shadowhunters will come and wipe away everything the Downworld has built here."

"But you believe yourself to be a mundane, isn't that correct?" Brigitte asked. Niya frowned, confused by the wording. "Why should a mundane care about what happens to the Downworld?"

"I may be a mundane, but Downworlders raised me. Warlocks and werewolves and vampires and faeries, they've all been a part of my life for as long as I can remember. If there's even a chance I can save them, I have to try."

Brigitte approached her, and ran her fingers through Niya's hair. "Your blood speaks true, and your heart is in the right place, even if your mind does not grasp why."

She looked out over Bayou St. John for a moment and then nodded. "These waters have seen enough bloodshed for one lifetime. This will not be the seventh tomb, at least not today. I will tell Samedi to lock the gate."

Niya let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Brigitte. Thank you so much."

"I will leave you with a warning, the gates will open. Sooner than you may think, and the boy who will wield their power will be much worse than the foe you face today. When that happens, I expect you to answer the call. You say you want to save the Downworld? Then do so. That is my payment for granting you this wish."

Niya nodded, though she wasn't exactly sure what she was agreeing to. Brigitte leaned down and pressed a kiss to Niya's forehead. "Now go, my child, and discover who you truly are."

* * *

Niya opened her eyes to the dark, humid, New Orleans night. She was sticky with sweat and her hair was plastered to her face. Alec dropped to his knees in front of her. "By the angel, I thought you were dead."

She smirked. "Sorry to disappoint." Niya glanced around. The bridge was half empty, and of those that remained, mundanes were in the minority. "What happened? Did he get his sixth body? I couldn't have been gone that long, and Brigitte said she would close the gate."

Alec glanced behind him, sharing a look with Auntie Bones. "Niya, you've been sitting there for almost twenty four hours."

Carmen Veracruz took a step forward, flicking her hair out of her face with a glossy manicured nail. "The clan tracked the werewolf, but it was too late. He got his sixth victim."

"But you caught him, right?" Niya asked, looking between Carmen and the others. The vampire nodded once. "Then he can't hurt anyone else." No one else said anything. Niya frowned. "Why are you all staring at me like that?"

Alec cleared his throat. "Because you were supposed to be victim number seven." He nodded toward her arm. Niya looked down. It wasn't humidity and sweat that had her feeling all sticky. It was blood. Lots of it.

Niya grabbed her arm, looking for the scratches. But there was nothing. "How?"

"We don't know," Talia said. "It was chaotic, everyone was fighting, and then you were scratched. But, when I got to you, the scratches were healed."

Niya frowned, looking up at the sky. The moon was hardly visible; it wouldn't be full for weeks. "It wasn't the turn that healed me."

Auntie Bones shook her head. "It was Maman Brigitte."

* * *

After a long sleep, and a big breakfast, Alec and Jace were finally leaving. Auntie Bones couldn't be more eager to shoo them out of her apartment. Niya walked them downstairs; glad they decided to close the store today. She wasn't in the mood for any snide comments from the Downworlder clientele.

"I never thought I'd live to see the day I actually wanted to thank a Shadowhunter for their help." Niya shook her head, with a small smile.

Jace stared at her for a moment. "Well, where's the thank you?"

"I said I  _wanted_  to, not that I was going to."

"She's even more stubborn than you," Alec teased.

"Well, if the full moon comes, and you don't turn. Give me a call," Jace winked before heading toward the door.

"You still aren't my type!" Niya yelled after him.

He laughed. "I'm everyone's type."

Niya rolled her eyes and turned back to Alec. "I still don't know how you put up with him. I want to smack that smug smile off his face."

"To be fair, sometimes he deserves it." He looked toward the door. "I guess I should go."

"You don't seem too excited. I would've thought you'd be running back to New York after all this."

Alec ran his fingers through his hair. "I don't know, I guess I kind of like it here. It's different. People are different. It's nice."

"People aren't different," Niya said, shaking her head. "They're just Downworlders. If you branch out from your Shadowhunter bubble, I'm sure you'll find a whole bunch of people just like us."

They looked at each other for a long time. Alec looked like he had something he wanted to say, but instead he just looked away. "You know, um," He looked down at the ground, focusing very intently on a broken tile. "I'm not..."

"Not interested?" Niya supplied. He looked up and nodded. "Yeah, I figured. Don't worry; I'm not interested in you either. I don't date Shadowhunters." Alec gave her a small smile, his shoulders relaxed like there was a weight off them. Niya glanced toward the front door, where Jace was trying, unsuccessfully, to pretend he wasn't watching. "But, if you ever need to get Jace off your back, or I don't know, your parents. I'm very good at parties, and I'm only a portal away."

Alec smiled and started to turn away. But Niya grabbed his arm. "When I was with Maman Brigitte, she told me to find out who I truly was. I intend to do that. Maybe you should too." Niya stretched up to plant a kiss on his cheek, for the sake of Jace who was not so subtly peeking through the window. "See you soon."


	2. Chapter 2

_“I saw pale kings and princes too,_  
_Pale warriors, death-pale were they all;_  
_They cried–‘La Belle Dame sans Merci_  
_Hath thee in thrall!’”_  
– La Belle Dame sans Merci, by John Keats

****New York, 2008** **

The apartment was packed and Niya had a hard time navigating through the rooms. If it weren't for the Shadowhunters sprinkled in with the downworlders, it would have felt like any New Orleans party she'd ever been to. Finally she located Magnus, his bright blue silk tuxedo jacket made him stand out, even among the other fabulously dressed New Yorkers.

He turned his cat eyes on her as she drew closer, and grinned. "There's my favorite future-Shadowhunter." Niya let him hug her before tugging him out onto the balcony. She looked left and right before settling down. "What has you so jumpy?"

"You have to help me hide from Maryse Lightwood," Niya begged. "I haven't seen her since, well, since I dated her son." She quickly corrected herself, "Fake dated, I mean."

Magnus laughed. "Yes, Alec told me all about that. I have to admit I was a little shocked, I thought Niya Reynaud only dated downworlders."

Niya shot him a look. "I do. I was helping out a friend." Magnus raised an eyebrow. "No one ever said I was against the concept of Shadowhunter friends. I was just waiting for the  _right_  Shadowhunter friends. The Rosewains were assholes." She made a quick cross on her chest. The Rosewains had been entirely wiped out during the Dark War. "I mean, um, may the angel watch over them, or whatever."

Magnus held up two hands. "Hey, don't censor yourself on my account. The Rosewains  _were_  assholes." He shook his head. "I honestly can't believe you're going to ascend. You, of all people."

"Ugh, I don't even want to think about it. All those bratty Shadowhunter teens? Jace was bad enough at that age, I can't even imagine dozens of them." Magnus smiled and conjured her up a drink. Niya squared her shoulders, and took a long sip. "But, it's okay. I'll get through it, and when I do there will be one more Shadowhunter looking out for the Downworld."

Magnus ruffled her hair. "That's my voodoo doll." Niya rolled her eyes at the old nickname, but she couldn't fight back her smile entirely. The past year had been hell for everyone in the Shadow World, and it was nice to pretend for a moment that nothing had changed. "Has Madame Bones finally calmed down?"

Niya groaned, remembering how upset Auntie had gotten when Niya had announced her plans to Ascend. "Oh believe me, I was walking out the door and she was still ranting about how corrupt the Clave was and how I was making a terrible mistake. But it's better than throwing the good dishes at anyone who even  _mentioned_  the S word."

"You know, she called me. She thought I was the one person who could talk some sense into you," Magnus said. "I told her to suck it up and let you go."

"No, you did not." Niya raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"Of course I didn't, Madame Bones is terrifying." They both giggled. Auntie usually had that effect on people.

Niya's eyes drifted toward the skyline, and her expression darkened. "You know, Maman Brigitte warned me," Niya said, her voice so low Magnus had to lean in to hear her. "She said a boy would open the gates to the demon realm. She said he'd be worse than anyone I'd fought before."

"You couldn't have known about Sebastian, no one could have known."

Niya shrugged. "I know." She took another long sip from her glass. "But it was also a wakeup call. I owed Maman Brigitte a favor, and it was time for her to collect. When Jace called and told me the Academy was reopening, I knew that was what she'd meant."

"The mother of all loa wanted you to become a Shadowhunter?"

"Loa are faeries, even if they are separate from the courts we know of. Imagine sitting up there, wherever she is, watching faeries suffer because of the Cold Peace." Niya bit her lip. "Auntie is right, the Clave aren't the good guys. But maybe I can help change that one day."

Magnus shook his head. "You better watch your mouth when you get to Idris. Shadowhunters are notoriously anti-everything you stand for."

"In my experience, there are plenty of good ones."

"Every Shadowhunter you know has been under review by the Clave at least once in the past year," Magnus reminded her. "I wouldn't say they're the norm."

"Niya Reynaud, there you are!" Niya froze at the woman's voice behind her. "I was hoping you'd be here."

She quickly gulped down the remainder of her drink, and Magnus conjured up a refill. He mouthed, "Good luck!" before ducking back into the apartment. Niya turned around slowly to face Maryse Lightwood.

At first glance, the matriarch of the Lightwood family could be mistaken for Isabelle. But if it had been Isabelle standing behind her, Niya wouldn't have been as inclined to run. "Well, I am a guest of honor. I figured I should at least make an appearance."

Maryse clapped her hands together lightly. "I can't believe you're finally going to Ascend. From the day Alec first introduced you, I just knew you'd make an excellent Shadowhunter. I can't wait for you to prove me right."

"Thanks. I'm actually a little nervous." She didn't have to ratchet up the charm too much to make it believable. Niya really was worried about what the next two years would hold.

"Oh, don't be," Maryse said, sitting down next to Niya. "My two years at the Academy were some of the best of my life." An awkward silence passed between them, as they both remembered her time at the Academy had been mostly spent with the Circle. "I know things didn't work out between you and my son."

"That was a long time ago," Niya mumbled. No one had told Maryse the whole relationship had been an act from the beginning. She was convinced Niya had been as in the dark as the rest of them.

"I wish you'd stayed in touch more this past year, but I understand why you kept your distance." Maryse sighed. "I just want you to know, if you ever need anything you can call me. You may not be a Lightwood, but you're still a part of this family." Niya smiled, suddenly really glad Maryse had found her. She knew exactly what to say.

"Thank you, that means a lot. I promise I'll stay in touch."

Niya glanced over her shoulder. Inside Magnus was attempting a very elaborate party-trick with a stack of champagne glasses. When Niya looked back, she could've sworn Maryse had tears in her eyes. "Don't let me keep you. Like you said, you're a guest of honor. You should be in there having fun." Maryse stood up, and gave Niya one last smile, before disappearing inside.

"You know," Niya murmured to herself. "Maybe becoming a Shadowhunter isn't that crazy of an idea. You hear that, Maman? I'm sorry I doubted you."

* * *

Niya made her way to a quiet corner of the apartment. She turned toward a staircase, and discovered she wasn't the only one trying to get away. "What are you hiding from?" She asked the skinny brunette boy, who was sitting on the steps.

He glanced up, nudging his glasses with one hand. "Everyone mostly."

"Oh, sorry I found you then," Niya said with a smile. "Mind if I hide out with you?"

The boy shook his head, and Niya sat a few steps down. She reclined against the wall. He looked at her warily. "Have we met before?"

"I don't think so," she said. "I'm not from around here."

"Good," he said, firmly. "I mean, not good as in I'm glad we haven't met, just good as in...everyone else seems to think I've met them. But I don't remember any of that." Niya raised an eyebrow. "I'm Simon."

"Oh, that explains it." Niya laughed quietly. "The Lightwoods filled me in. It's gotta suck, losing your memory like that."

"You're telling me!" Simon shook his head. "Honestly, I'm ready to get to Idris just so I can have a moment to myself."

Niya leaned forward, propping her elbows up on the step above her. "Are you going to the Academy?" Simon nodded once and Niya beamed. "Me too!"

Simon grabbed her shoulders. "Are you kidding? Because if you're kidding, I honestly might cry."

"Not kidding. Though with every passing moment, I'm regretting the decision a little more." Niya joked. "But at least I won't be the only one who knows what movies are."

"Think of all the good jokes we can make that no one else will get."

"I'm sure we can't be the only mundanes," Niya said with a shrug. "Maybe we'll have a whole gang of pop-culture obsessed teens to torment the Nephilim."

Simon grinned. "This sounds like the plot of a terrible sci-fi movie."

"The Mysterious Television Set on Shadowhunter Island?" Niya giggled. "I'm getting some serious Agatha Christie vibes. I'm Niya, by the way. I think this is going to be a hell of a lot of fun."

**Idris, 2008**

Looking back, fun was not the best word to use in description of Shadowhunter Academy. In fact, in the first two hours on campus, Niya had decided it was the exact opposite of fun. For starters, she was bored out of her mind.

Auntie had portaled her halfway across the world, with a  _harrumph_. She was still unenthused with the idea of Niya's Ascension. Talia had been only slightly better, with a quick hug and a kiss on the forehead.

She'd hiked through a charming valley by herself, and ended up outside a decrepit old gothic building where she'd firmly parked herself on the front steps. So far, eighteen Shadowhunters had walked by her, and not a one had looked in her direction. Niya was used to that, she was very good at blending in. Plus she thought her typical, all-black ensemble was fairly on-brand, so she didn't stick out like a sore thumb. Like Simon would.

Niya had been waiting on the front step for Simon's arrival for two hours, and she was starting to fall asleep. "Excuse me," a calm voice called out from the door, shaking Niya from her almost-sleep. "I believe imitating the gargoyles is quite offensive."

Niya turned to look at the blue-skinned warlock and grinned. "Catarina!" She leapt up, and nearly toppled the woman over with the force of her hug. "I didn't know you'd be here."

"I'll be teaching, actually." Catarina looked Niya over. "You've grown up so much. I can see Auntie Bones in you, you have her eyes." She paused, smirking, as they both remembered that Auntie's eyes were an unearthly silver. Niya's eyes were brown. Maybe it was just their look. "I'm sure she's thrilled with your life decisions." Catarina was one of the few warlocks Niya knew who didn't seem intimidated by Madame Bones. "Why are you sitting on the porch?"

"I was waiting on Simon," she explained. "We said we'd meet here."

"I believe one of the girls swooped him away and took him to his room," Catarina explained with a shrug. "Come, I'll show you to your room and then you can look for Simon."

Niya picked up her suitcases and followed Catarina toward the doors. The Academy itself was clearly falling apart. But Niya didn't mind, she was from New Orleans, she was used to old buildings.

"Supposedly there's a system to the room assignments, but I don't care, so you're going to stay up here." Catarina headed up a long spiral staircase that emerged in one of the towers. The warlock waved Niya into one of the vacant rooms. "I believe Mr. Lewis is just down the hall."

Catarina looked distractedly out the window. "Oh, you have got to be kidding me.  _Why_  did I take this job?" She shook her head, glancing back at Niya. "Excuse me, I have another mess to clean up."

* * *

 

Niya didn't find Simon until dinner that night. From the looks of the dining hall, they were some of the oldest students. Thanks to Alec, she knew there were certain things a Shadowhunter had to do before they were 18, or not at all, like getting a parabatai. Maybe Ascending was similar. She shivered, remembering that not every mundane survived their sip from the Mortal Cup.

Across the room, she spotted a table of students who looked to be about her age, and she made a beeline for them. A narrow-faced blonde took one look at her and then whispered something to the muscled boy sitting to her right. "Niya!" She jumped, and glanced over to see Simon sitting a few places down. He slid over to make room for her on the bench. "I looked for you, but this place is huge!"

"Catarina said your room is just down the hall from mine," Niya told him.

He grinned and lightly punched the boy sitting next to him. "This is the girl I mentioned, she's cool. She grew up in a voodoo shop, her mom's a werewolf."

The rest of the table had gone silent, listening to Simon talk. Niya shot him a look, but he was still focused on the other boy. "So you're staying the tower?" The blonde girl spoke up. Niya nodded. "Then I guess they're putting you with the elites."

"Of course, they are," Simon said. "She's basically a downworld encyclopedia."

"Elites?" Niya asked.

"People like us," another girl explained. This one was a brunette. "Shadowhunters mostly. Or exceptional mundanes like Simon." She smiled at him, before turning her gaze back to Niya. "Or you, I guess. I'm Beatriz."

Niya introduced herself, as did the rest of the Shadowhunters at the table. Jon Cartwright was the big guy, Julie Beauvale was the blonde, and George Lovelace was the boy sitting next to Simon. All of them were Shadowhunters. Niya wished she could melt into the wall like she had outside.

"So, you're a demon-lover, huh?" Jon asked, leaning forward on his elbows. "That's why they let you take advanced courses?"

"I also saved the world from a lunatic werewolf who wanted to set the forces of death loose on the world," Niya muttered. "But yeah, let's just go with demon-lover."

George glanced over curiously. Unlike the other Shadowhunters at the table, he didn't seem to be putting her on trial. "Sounds badass." He had an Scottish accent, Niya smiled.

"It was."

"How'd the two of you meet?" Beatriz asked, looking at Simon. She was crushing hard. Niya would've laughed it wasn't so painful to watch.

"Oh, Magnus threw us a going away party," he said with an awkward smile.

"Magnus Bane?" Julie asked, suddenly intrigued. "You know him?"

"Niya knows everyone," Simon said. He glanced over at Jon. "She's friends with Jace too, maybe you've crossed paths."

Jon suddenly looked very uncomfortable. "Um, I don't know. We mostly hung out in Alicante."

"Oh, you know Jace?" Niya asked. She fixed him with her best Auntie Bones stare, the kind that could see straight into your heart. "Hmm, he never mentioned you. I'll definitely ask about you, next time I see him." Jon was squirming now, clearly afraid of being caught in a lie. Niya made a mental note to give Simon a fist-bump later.

Maybe she'd been right before, the Shadowhunter Academy might turn out to be a hell of a lot of fun after all.

* * *

Niya had never thought of herself as a fighter before she came to the Academy, but it turned out she had something of an affinity for it. She liked weapons, especially bows and arrows, and she could run faster than Julie Beauvale. But, she'd been on the track team, for the two years of high school she'd actually gone to, so that wasn't all that surprising.

Simon, on the other hand, did not have an affinity for anything. She spent nights tutoring him in the Shadow World knowledge he was already supposed to know, and days trying to go easy on him in sparing sessions.

"You'll find your thing eventually," Niya insisted, as they walked to the dining hall one afternoon. "We can't all be Jace Herondale."

Simon frowned. "I know you're trying to be nice, but my ass is so completely bruised from the number of times I fell on it today, and I just can't take it."

They joined the rest of their friends at their usual table. Though friends might have been too strong a word. Niya preferred to think of them as minor annoyances she had to tolerate on her road to Ascension.

In fact, Niya had hardly spoken to anyone but Simon in the weeks since arriving at the Academy. Mostly she kept to herself and tried not to stand out anymore than she already did. The Shadowhunter students hardly fazed her anymore. She'd grown deaf to their snide comments about mundanes, and anti-downworld remarks.

At least she had until Simon spoke up. "I must inform you there are werewolves worth a hundred of your and Jon's Shadowhunter asses. I must say that I am sick to the teeth of you insulting mundanes and telling me I'm your special exception, as if I want to be the pet of people who bully kids younger and weaker than they are."

Julie and Jon stared at him wide-eyed. Niya was sure her own expression mirrored theirs. As long as she'd known Simon, he'd always been the funny one. He cracked jokes and kept her smiling. This was another side she'd yet to see.

"And I must tell you, you'd better hope this Academy works out and mundanes like Niya and me Ascend, because from all I can see of you, the next generation of Shadowhunters is going to be nothing without us."

"Come on, man," George muttered, not looking up from his plate. "Don't–don't do this. They'll make you move rooms. Just sit down, and everybody can apologize, and we can go on as we were."

Niya, now engaged in the outcome of this discussion, shot George a particularly nasty look. Simon took a deep breath. "I don't want things to go on as they were. I want things to change." And with that, he got up, and marched right up to Dean Penhallow at the head table.

"Will they really make him move rooms?" Niya whispered, more to herself than to anyone at the table.

Niya was surprised when Beatriz, who sat next to her, cleared her throat and answered. "The dregs–um,  _mundanes_ –stay in the basement, where it's easier to defend them." Both girls watched with rapt attention as Simon talked to the Penhallow.

"It's not that I'm having difficulty," Simon told her. "It's that I'd rather not associate with the elite Shadowhunter families. I just don't think they're my kind of people."

Niya let out a single, high-pitched, laugh, which earned her a scalding look from Julie. "Oh, please, you're all elitist assholes, he's just telling the truth." For half a second she thought about her cozy tower room, and how nice it would be just to coast by under the radar for the next two years. But Talia would never approve, neither would Auntie Bones, to say nothing for Michelle and Nate, or the countless other downworlders she considered family.

Niya pushed herself up from the table. George looked panicked. "You know, I'm actually damn good at all this," she told them, shaking her head. "But in my heart I will  _always_  be a part of the downworld."

* * *

When Niya emerged from the tower bedroom that had formerly been hers, George was waiting for her in the hall. She rolled her suitcase to a stop in front of him. "What do you want?"

"Well, we're going the same way." He motioned down at his own bags. "Might as well walk together."

She raised an eyebrow. " _You're_  joining the dregs?"

"It may surprise you, but that's where I've belonged this whole time," he told her. At Niya's blank expression, he continued, "I'm not a Shadowhunter. I was adopted."

"Oh," she said dumbly. "Well, I suppose you'll have to forgive me for treating you like one of them these past few weeks. You do have the look."

George preened, earning an eyeroll from Niya. He smiled. "I promise you that's where the similarities end. I'm not like them."

She shook her head with a soft smile. "I look forward to you proving me wrong."

**Idris, 2009**

At first Niya thought the tapping noise on her door was just rats, but then it got louder. She sat up slowly, glancing around her tiny grungy, room on the mundane floor. "Simon?" She called. "George?"

Then the door burst open and Niya let out a quiet squeak. "Izzy?"

"Yes, it's me, get up." The other girl waved Niya out of bed and started digging through the wardrobe. "Here, put this on."

"What? Where are we going?" Niya asked, but did as she was told.

"New Orleans, and we have to go now. Hurry!" Isabelle snapped.

"I'm not allowed to leave," Niya reminded her.

"Yes, I am aware, that is why I'm breaking you out." She dug her fingernails into Niya's arms and practically dragged her into the hall. "Magnus is waiting for us, he's opening a portal in the forest."

Niya came to an abrupt stop on the steps. "Isabelle, stop. What's happening? Is it Auntie?" She couldn't imagine any other reason for the urgency, or why Magnus would be opening a portal to New Orleans and instead of Madam Bones.

Isabelle's eyes got big and she grabbed Niya's hand. "Oh, by the angel. I didn't even think about that. No, Auntie Bones is fine. She's fine. In fact, we can't even tell her that we're in town, considering you're supposed to be safe here under lock and key. I am probably breaking  _so_  many laws for this."

"Shadowhunters have too many damn laws," Niya muttered. Isabelle nodded her agreement before tugging Niya out into the night. They made it to the edge of the forest where Magnus urged them into the trees.

Niya crossed her arms while she watched Magnus work on the portal. "Listen, if I'm going to risk getting kicked out of the Academy, one of y'all better tell me what the hell is going on."

"It's your mom," Isabelle started. At Niya's horrified expression, she quickly amended, "Talia is fine! Ugh, I'm so not good at this." She wiggled something out of her pocket and stuffed it in Niya's hand.

It was a postcard, one of those cheesy tourist ones with the Mardi Gras banners around the edges. The photograph in the middle was of St. Louis Cathedral. Niya flipped it over and recognized Talia's messy handwriting right away. "It's time she knows the truth." Niya glanced between Magnus and Isabelle. "What truth?"

"That's what we're going to find out," Isabelle said with a shrug. "And before you freak, obviously it's serious if your werewolf mom is sending postcards to the New York Institute."

Niya couldn't think up any good arguments against going, so she just nodded and followed Izzy through the portal. They came out right in the middle of Jackson Square. The sun was just beginning to set. It was the middle of the week, so the streets weren't too crowded and it was late enough that the gates were locked. They were alone.

They hurried over to the gate, which Isabelle unlocked with an opening rune, and they headed across the street to the Cathedral. Niya frowned as she looked up at the building. "I don't suppose you have any ideas where to start looking. It's an old church, I'm sure there are a lot of secrets here."

"Remember last time I was here, it was supposed to just be fun and then-"

"And then a warlock showed up at Carmen's party claiming we were being attacked by voudun zombies?"

"Yeah, and then that one vampire called Cuidad de los Muertos sacrilegious and blamed Madam Bones and suddenly Luling Mansion was a war zone." They both shuddered. "Anyway, after that I talked to the Rosewains about where the Institute's weapon stashes were, just in case we ever needed them. Turns out that there's one in the loft."

Magnus raised a hand, and the girls looked over at him. "Question. Are voudun zombies a real thing? Because I have been around for, well, some time, and I've heard conflicting opinions."

Niya grinned. "Oh yeah, super real. But as far as I know they only live out in the bayou, and they're harmless. For the most part."

"You would think a local warlock would know that," Isabelle mused, unlocking the door to the church.

"Apparently he was dating one of the selkies, but she caught him cheating on her with Carmen's right hand girl," Niya explained. "So she slipped him some nasty faerie drug and he flipped his shit."

Magnus sighed wistfully. "Sometimes I really do miss the New Orleans Downworld."

"Come on, secret stash is up here." Isabelle waved for them to follow her up the spiral staircase to the upper floors.

"I don't understand how my mother would have known about this place," Niya mumbled as they headed down the hall. Isabelle just gave her a look, but didn't say anything. She pushed open a door, revealing a cluttered and dusty storage room.

Niya felt like the air had just been knocked out of her. "Did y'all feel that?" Magnus and Isabelle shared a look. "I'm taking that as a decisive  _no_." Niya headed toward the stained glass windows that illuminated the space. Then she dropped to her knees, her fingers instinctively digging around for loose floorboards. Finally she found one.

Her breath caught again when she saw the folded yellow paper sitting on top. Her name was printed in perfectly written cursive, far too pretty to be her mother's messy script. "Wait," Magnus called, but before he could stop her, Niya had already flipped open the letter. The air around her took on a shimmering quality, and suddenly Niya felt like she was floating. She turned around to look for Isabelle and Magnus, but they were gone.

**New Orleans, 1990**

Niya recognized the house she was in immediately, she'd been there a half-dozen times. It belonged to Lady Mirah of the Seelie Court. Mirah hardly attended any other parties hosted by the city's downworld, but every Mardi Gras she opened the doors to her beautiful Esplanade Ridge manor.

Mirah's masquerade balls were arguably the best of the season, though Carmen and her vampires would disagree. Admittedly Niya loved them all, but there was something special about Mirah's ball. Maybe it was the secrecy of it, the hand written invitations that cast shimmering images in your head. The only way to know the date and time was through a pretty artificial memory cast by faerie magic.

A woman brushed past Niya and headed up the grand staircase. Her dress was shockingly purple, with rows and rows of shimmering organdy ruffles. It had the potential to be the most hideous dress Niya had ever seen, but somehow on the woman's smooth dark skin, it looked like magic.

The woman stopped at the top of the stairs, looking down at the crowd below. The guests around Niya slowly came into focus and she realized most of them were dressed in a similar fashion, as if they were at a 90s costume party. Niya locked onto the woman's mask, it was black satin lined with lace, and curls of silver spiraled away from the edges. She knew that mask; she'd  _worn_  that mask. Madam Bones had passed it down to Talia. It had belonged to one of Niya's great-grandparents who lived with Auntie, years before Talia's grandmother chose to move out to the bayou. Once again, Niya felt like the air had been knocked out of her.

"The night I met your mother, I thought she was the most beautiful woman I'd ever met." Niya startled at the man's voice. She turned to see a tall man in a suit. He was wearing a half-mask that entirely hid the left side of his face, including his eye.

Niya wondered what her mother could see from the balcony. Talia hadn't been born with the sight, but most of the New Orleans downworld didn't bother with glamours. Everyone in the city, tourists and locals alike, expected to see weird occurrences. Most mundanes would just file it away as costumes or magic tricks, but Talia Reynaud knew better.

Still, some downworlders preferred to hide certain features about themselves. Warlocks with brightly colored skin tended to glamour it away most days, even at a party such as this. Red-eyed Lucent Muriel hid her eye color sometimes, just so it wouldn't clash with her outfits. To Talia, those little details would be hidden, but to Niya they were plain as day if she just focused a little.

Out of the corner of her eye, she watched the man with the half mask head up the staircase. Niya took one last wistful look at the party, before darting after him.

"How is it a woman as striking as you is alone?" The man said, Niya jumped again, before realizing he wasn't talking to her anymore.

Talia looked over at him. Her brown eyes were sad, though she flashed a smile. "I was with Deveaux, but he left." Niya knew the name, he was High Warlock of Atlanta now, but he'd been around a lot when she was a kid. "We got in a fight."

When Niya was really young, and didn't understand how Downworlders worked, she had thought Deveaux could have been her father. Of course she knew now that was impossible, but he had fit the profile: white and tall. Not that those features were a lot to go on, but they were the only two clues she had.

"It appears you could use new company," the masked man said with a smile. "Would you like a drink?"

Talia glanced down at the crowd, as if still holding out hope her date would return, and then finally nodded. "Sure, bring me one of the purple ones, and a silver one as a chaser." Niya couldn't remember what the colors meant, but Talia spoke as if she'd tried them all and was used to their effects.

Niya was tempted to stay with her mother, but instead followed the man. He also fit the profile. His one visible eye was bright blue, Niya tried to imagine what she would look like with blue eyes. When she got a little closer, she noticed they had the same face shape. Talia's face was all soft lines, while Niya had high cheekbones and a strong jaw. Other than that, she couldn't see the similarities.

The man reached for two glasses on the tray. When he did, the sleeve of his tuxedo rode up, exposing his wrist. Niya gasped. Hidden beneath the fabric were runes, or at least the scars of runes. They looked like old scars too, not the silvery easy to spot ridges on Isabelle or Jace. These were hardly visible, just tiny lines of discoloration. If she hadn't been staring, she wouldn't have noticed them.

The man with the half-mask was a Shadowhunter, or at least he  _had_  been a Shadowhunter. Niya looked back her mother. Talia was watching the man. Did she know? Probably not.

Niya felt frozen in place as she watched the man return to Talia's side. Her mother knocked back both the drinks and smiled, a silver shimmer staining her lips. "I didn't catch your name."

"Thomas," he told her.

Talia raised an eyebrow. She looked so much like her daughter in that moment that Niya felt her heart squeeze. "No last name? You faeries are so mysterious."

* * *

Niya's stomach churned as the vision sped up. She jolted to a stop in the hallway, nearly losing her balance as the world came back into focus around her. Outside a closed door, she could hear noises she recognized all too well. Her nose scrunched up. "So did  _not_  need to hear this," she muttered.

A breeze from down the hall blew her hair back from her face, and Lady Mirah appeared. Niya had only ever seen the faerie from a distance. She looked like spring incarnate, with lilac hair and golden eyes. She always wore some timeless fashion, made entirely out of blossoming flowers. Up close she was even more breathtaking.

But it was clear that she was upset, and a frown pulled at her delicate features. She stopped just in front of Niya, and laid a hand upon the door. For a moment Mirah's expression softened and she just looked sad. Then she pushed the door open with a thought, spilling light into the dark room.

Talia and Thomas were intertwined in each other and the covers. Niya fought the urge to run away. She had to know what happened next. Talia looked terrified, and Niya didn't blame her in the slightest. It wasn't every day Lady Mirah of the Seelie Court barged in on you hooking up with a hot faerie in her mansion.

"Thomas of the Wild Hunt," Mirah called, her voice was soft as rose petals, but her tone was harsh. "You have overstayed your welcome, and I will not have the Hunter barging into my home to reclaim you. His message has been delivered and now you must go."

She turned on her heel, lilac hair flying in her wake, and disappeared down the hall without another word. The door remained open, casting Talia's face in the light. Her lips were parted in confusion, but as she took in his scars, her lips pulled into a sneer. "You're one of  _them_."

The way Talia untangled herself and leapt from the bed with such grace, Niya might have thought she was a Shadowhunter herself. "Talia, please. I can explain."

"No, I don't want to hear it," Talia hissed. "Shadowhunters have no place here, whether or not they have faerie blood. Go back to the Hunt. I'm sure you belong there." Thomas took a step back as if he'd been slapped. Talia turned toward the window, overlooking the city, without another word.

* * *

The vision shifted again, and Niya squeezed her eyes shut as she was launched from one place to another. When she felt stable enough to open her eyes, they were in Jackson Square.

It was fall. The leaves were changing color. The Square looked so beautiful it made tears spring to Niya's eyes. The seasons had changed without her this year, when she'd returned for break the leaves had fallen and everything was just grey.

The chill in the air did nothing to deter the people who crowded the streets, tourists and locals alike. They weaved between the stalls of painters and craftsmen, occasionally pausing to take in a street performer. Talia Reynaud was one of them. She paused at the corner, particularly entranced by a musician singing an old blues song.

Her hand drifted to her very pregnant belly, and she smiled. "You like this song too, don't you, baby girl? You've got good taste." Talia moved on, happy, and carefree.

The scene shifted and Niya was back in the loft of St. Louis Cathedral. Thomas stood at the window, watching Talia down below. Without his half-mask, she could see his eyes. The one that had been concealed was deep silver.

Mirah stood at his side, looking decidedly out of place among the dust and clutter. "You have doomed that child," she told him. She didn't sound angry anymore, just tired and maybe a little sad.

"She won't know," Thomas murmured. "Talia made that perfectly clear. Niya will grow up a mundane. It's for the best. Talia thinks the only thing she has to fear is Shadowhunters snatching her away in the night." He shook his head. "The rest of it, either she didn't hear or she's choosing to ignore."

"That may change when her daughter is born with pointed ears," Mirah challenged.

Thomas touched his own stunted ears. "Bones says she won't be, too much non-faerie blood in the line."

The lilac-haired beauty shot him a look. "Do not be difficult, Thomas. One day Niya will know, it is unavoidable. And when she knows,  _he_  will not be far behind. Raising her as a mundane offers no protection. The Institute may be able to–"

"Talia would sooner place Niya in the Queen's lap."

"Perhaps that is not such a bad idea."

Thomas frowned. "Thank you for helping me, Mirah. For all those years. If it weren't for you, my life would have been taken from me a long time ago."

"I will demand your release again next year as I have done every year since, and Gwyn will be obliged to send you with his response." The shared a look. It was obvious what his response always was. "It may be for only one night, but for that night you may see her."

"It's better if I don't."

"You will never be able to stay away." Mirah smirked. "And this way I can keep you out of trouble."

"Watch over her, will you?"

"You know I spend little time in this world, Thomas. The warlock will protect her more than I ever could, and she is family. I am only an old friend."

Thomas slung a bag off his shoulder. "Then pass on a message for me. One day, when Talia has forgiven me, and if it's safe for Niya to know, tell her I left her a letter."

"It may never be safe."

He looked at the bag again and sighed. "That is why I am leaving more than just a letter."

**New Orleans, 2009**

Niya gasped in air as if she'd been drowning. Magnus grabbed her shoulders, looking her over. "Faerie magic," she blurted, though she was sure they'd figured that out already. "My father was a faerie."

Isabelle and Magnus shared a look; Niya realized Isabelle was holding onto the letter now. Whatever it said, they'd already read it. Isabelle nodded, and held out the paper. "We know, we read the letter." Niya scanned it over, it was the same story she'd just seen play out in front of her. "Look at the name."

She read it. Then she read it again. She looked between Isabelle and Magnus, hoping one of them had an explanation. "Thomas  _Lightwood_?"

"We called Alec while you were out," Magnus started.

"You were out for a while," Isabelle inserted.

Magnus shot Isabelle a look, and rubbed Niya's arms soothingly. "He took a look at some of the old Lightwood family books at the Institute. In the 19th century, there were several Lightwood siblings. I remember them, faintly. Gabriel was an ancestor of Alec and Isabelle, Tatiana married into the Blackthorn family, and Gideon's family...well they were lost to history."

Niya narrowed her eyes. "Lost as in sunk in the Bermuda Triangle, or?"

"We don't know, the family tree just ended with Gideon's kids," Isabelle explained. "He had three, but we don't know what happened to them. Alec says he'll talk to mom maybe they can piece things together." Niya made a face. "Isn't that kinda weird that you dated your cousin?"

"Alec and I did not date, we  _pretended_  to date. You know this."

Isabelle shrugged. "Still kinda weird."

"There's something else," Magnus said. He opened the box under the letter, and pushed back the fabric. The moonlight reflected off the silver. Niya gasped, her hands darting toward it as if drawn by magnets.

It was a bow, beautiful and elegant like it was made of liquid light. There were runes carved into the metal, some Niya recognized, like the one for accuracy, but some were new. "It's adamas," Isabelle said quietly. "I've never seen anything like it."

There was a quiver of arrows too, each one made from solid adamas just like the bow. "This was my dad's," Niya whispered.

"Alec is going to be  _so_  jealous."


End file.
